Flack stared at his computer, chewing on a pen, lost in thought. “You really believe that your girlfriend can see ghosts?” Sofia asked, breaking his concentration.
Flack looked up over his monitor at the Las Vegas detective who was sitting opposite him. Flack sighed and leant back in his chair. “You think she’s crazy, don’t you?” Refraining from making a somewhat rude comment, Sofia just shrugged her reply. “I thought she was once, too.” Flack said quietly.
Sofia raised her eyebrows. “And did you believe her before or after you started dating her.”
Flack smiled. “She wouldn’t let me date her until I did believe her.”
Sofia shook her head, “Next you’ll be telling me that you can see them too.” Flack glanced down at the pen his hand. “You can see them?”
Flack nodded. “I can see only Maddy and Aiden.”
“Alright, I’m sorry, but I have to say this. When was the last time you had a CAT scan? The both of you, I mean.”
“We’re not crazy,” Flack told her shortly.
Sofia let out a dry laugh, “I think our department shrink, or any shrink for that matter, would disagree with you on that one.”
Flack stared over at her and sighed, suddenly feeling guilty for all the grief he had given Taylor over the matter.
“Castenelli’s in interview room three,” said Catherine, interrupting the two. She glanced back and forth at them and frowned. “Have I interrupted something?”
Sofia looked over at Flack before shaking her head. “Not a thing.”
Flack looked up over his monitor at the Las Vegas detective who was sitting opposite him. Flack sighed and leant back in his chair. “You think she’s crazy, don’t you?” Refraining from making a somewhat rude comment, Sofia just shrugged her reply. “I thought she was once, too.” Flack said quietly.
Sofia raised her eyebrows. “And did you believe her before or after you started dating her.”
Flack smiled. “She wouldn’t let me date her until I did believe her.”
Sofia shook her head, “Next you’ll be telling me that you can see them too.” Flack glanced down at the pen his hand. “You can see them?”
Flack nodded. “I can see only Maddy and Aiden.”
“Alright, I’m sorry, but I have to say this. When was the last time you had a CAT scan? The both of you, I mean.”
“We’re not crazy,” Flack told her shortly.
Sofia let out a dry laugh, “I think our department shrink, or any shrink for that matter, would disagree with you on that one.”
Flack stared over at her and sighed, suddenly feeling guilty for all the grief he had given Taylor over the matter.
“Castenelli’s in interview room three,” said Catherine, interrupting the two. She glanced back and forth at them and frowned. “Have I interrupted something?”
Sofia looked over at Flack before shaking her head. “Not a thing.”
* * *
Taylor pulled her feet up underneath herself and curled up into a smaller ball on the couch trying to suppress a yawn. Not only was the sun beginning to rise, but she had forgotten just how exhausting it was trying to convince people that she wasn’t crazy.
Sofia had allowed Flack to tag along with herself and Catherine whilst they went to question Castenelli. Nick and Greg were busy processing the evidence they had collected from Orson’s house. She had no idea where Sara and Warrick were. Although, that being said, she wasn’t exactly sure that the latter two wanted to see her anyway.
Turning sideways, she sank herself further into the couch so that she was lying down, her feet dangling over the arm and watched the fan spinning overhead in the dim light. And then it was blocked by a head belonging to someone she had yet to meet.
“Who are you and why are you in our break room?” it demanded. “You’re that woman that thinks she can see ghosts, aren’t you?” he continued, preventing her from answering the question. “You’re the one who upset Warrick. Although it was his fault she died, so that goes without saying.”
What does he mean by that? Why would it be Warrick’s fault? Taylor’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the attack. “Who are you?” she managed to fit in.
“You can’t just waltz in here upsetting my colleagues, you know,” the man continued, ignoring the question. “It’s not fair. In fact, I don’t see why you should be here to start off with. Psychics are frauds anyway, and there are no such things as ghosts.”
Taylor whirled back round, slamming her feet on the ground in her anger. “Now just hold on for one minute there, buddy,” she practically growled at him. “My only intention is to help, so don’t you dare start ranting and raving at me over things you don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand, alright,” he shouted back. “I understand perfectly how you journalist types work. You’re here to stir up as much trouble as possible so that the public has one more thing to hate us for.”
“I’m from New York!” Taylor yelled back as she leapt to her feet. “Do you really think I actually give a damn how a Las Vegas Crime Lab works?”
“New York, Las Vegas – it’s all the same. You people just don’t like how we’re the ones solving the crimes. You watch too much TV and expect the police to come to you to help with the cases.”
“I am not here for a story,” Taylor shrieked. “God damnit, you’re the one who has it all wrong – thinking that all we journalists want is a story. I DON’T!”
“HEY!” roared Nick, running over and physically pushing the two apart. Somewhere in amongst all the shouting, the two had become mere inches away from each other. “Brooks, what are you doing in here?”
“She started it,” Brooks muttered.
“Me?!” exclaimed Taylor. “You’re the one who started shouting at me. All I was trying to do was rest!”
“You’re the one who marched in here acting like you owned the place,” Brooks responded, his voice rising again.
“Hey. HEY!” Nick yelled again. “We’re adults. In a workplace… let’s act like it, shall we? Now, Brooks, unless you have some case breaking information for me, I suggest you get back in that trace lab and finish up on whatever work you have.”
“But-”
“Now.” Nick told him. With one last glare at Taylor, Brooks turned and left. Nick sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “And we thought Hodges was a problem,” he muttered.
Taylor just stared at him.
Nick stared back before glancing around. Taylor followed his glance and cringed. “What is it with crime labs and glass windows? Seriously?” she asked him, conscious of the various lab techs that had clearly been watching the scene unfold.
“We found something on that tire print,” Nick told her. He turned and began to walk out of the room. Taylor was hot on his heels.
Sofia had allowed Flack to tag along with herself and Catherine whilst they went to question Castenelli. Nick and Greg were busy processing the evidence they had collected from Orson’s house. She had no idea where Sara and Warrick were. Although, that being said, she wasn’t exactly sure that the latter two wanted to see her anyway.
Turning sideways, she sank herself further into the couch so that she was lying down, her feet dangling over the arm and watched the fan spinning overhead in the dim light. And then it was blocked by a head belonging to someone she had yet to meet.
“Who are you and why are you in our break room?” it demanded. “You’re that woman that thinks she can see ghosts, aren’t you?” he continued, preventing her from answering the question. “You’re the one who upset Warrick. Although it was his fault she died, so that goes without saying.”
What does he mean by that? Why would it be Warrick’s fault? Taylor’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the attack. “Who are you?” she managed to fit in.
“You can’t just waltz in here upsetting my colleagues, you know,” the man continued, ignoring the question. “It’s not fair. In fact, I don’t see why you should be here to start off with. Psychics are frauds anyway, and there are no such things as ghosts.”
Taylor whirled back round, slamming her feet on the ground in her anger. “Now just hold on for one minute there, buddy,” she practically growled at him. “My only intention is to help, so don’t you dare start ranting and raving at me over things you don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand, alright,” he shouted back. “I understand perfectly how you journalist types work. You’re here to stir up as much trouble as possible so that the public has one more thing to hate us for.”
“I’m from New York!” Taylor yelled back as she leapt to her feet. “Do you really think I actually give a damn how a Las Vegas Crime Lab works?”
“New York, Las Vegas – it’s all the same. You people just don’t like how we’re the ones solving the crimes. You watch too much TV and expect the police to come to you to help with the cases.”
“I am not here for a story,” Taylor shrieked. “God damnit, you’re the one who has it all wrong – thinking that all we journalists want is a story. I DON’T!”
“HEY!” roared Nick, running over and physically pushing the two apart. Somewhere in amongst all the shouting, the two had become mere inches away from each other. “Brooks, what are you doing in here?”
“She started it,” Brooks muttered.
“Me?!” exclaimed Taylor. “You’re the one who started shouting at me. All I was trying to do was rest!”
“You’re the one who marched in here acting like you owned the place,” Brooks responded, his voice rising again.
“Hey. HEY!” Nick yelled again. “We’re adults. In a workplace… let’s act like it, shall we? Now, Brooks, unless you have some case breaking information for me, I suggest you get back in that trace lab and finish up on whatever work you have.”
“But-”
“Now.” Nick told him. With one last glare at Taylor, Brooks turned and left. Nick sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “And we thought Hodges was a problem,” he muttered.
Taylor just stared at him.
Nick stared back before glancing around. Taylor followed his glance and cringed. “What is it with crime labs and glass windows? Seriously?” she asked him, conscious of the various lab techs that had clearly been watching the scene unfold.
“We found something on that tire print,” Nick told her. He turned and began to walk out of the room. Taylor was hot on his heels.
* * *
“So the ghost really came to you with a case breaker?” Greg asked excitedly from behind her. Taylor looked up from the computer from which Nick was running the tire tread and shrugged.
“Greg, the tire prints belong to a Dodge Ram – they’re hardly uncommon,” Nick muttered as the computer beeped with its findings. “A 2004 model,” Nick confirmed.
“Well, I can tell you that Castenelli owns a 2004 black Dodge Ram, which was being returned to him after being cleaned,” Catherine told them as she walked into the room, followed by Sofia and Flack, and dropped a folder on the table.
Taylor frowned and picked up the folder, flicking through it, still agitated from the earlier confrontation.
“Well, that’s enough for a warrant to search the hotel, surely?” Greg asked.
“I’ve already called the judge,” Sofia confirmed. “As soon as the warrant comes through, we’re going in.”
In the doorway, Geoff and Holly appeared. Geoff was shaking his head. Ignoring the conversation the others were now holding, Taylor frowned, concentrating on the ghosts. “He’s not in the hotel?”
Geoff nodded in agreement. Then, instead of fading away like the ghosts normally did, he turned and began walking hurriedly down the corridor. Ignoring the others, Taylor followed after him.
“Where are you going?” Catherine called after her.
Barely turning, Taylor just shrugged and continued following the ghost. He led her to the reception area and pointed to floor. The floor had a large crest which included a large map of Nevada. And Geoff was pointing to a specific point.
Taylor crouched down to examine the spot. “What’s there?” she asked as feet surrounded her.
“A tile?” Catherine asked her, clearly thinking Taylor was getting even crazier.
“No, I mean, the map. What’s there?”
“Desert,” Greg told her, cocking his head.
Taylor got back to her feet, “I think that’s where Tristan is. Or at the very least, a clue to where he is.”
Catherine gazed scathingly at her. “Taylor, there is nothing there, short of sand and dirt. And we can’t afford to waste man power to check there when there has been no evidence whatsoever to indicate otherwise.”
Taylor stood up in her frustration. “What the hell is the matter with you people? All I want to do is find this boy and make sure he’s safe,” Taylor cried. “And you guys are just doing is everything in your power to try and stop me.”
“Taylor,” Flack muttered in a low voice, placing his hand on her shoulder.
Shaking his hand off herself, Taylor did the last thing that Flack expected and nodded, without saying another word.
Even Catherine seemed a little surprised. “You’re not going to argue some more?”
Taylor shrugged in defeat. “What’s the point?” she asked, sighing dejectedly.
“Oh. Alright then. Well, Greg, we’re going to Castenelli Heights. Nick?”
“I’m going to finish processing the car,” he muttered. After sending Taylor a searching look, he left.
Sofia turned to Flack. “Out of professional courtesy, would you like to help search the hotel? Just you, though. We can’t allow Taylor onto the crime scene.”
“Thank you, but I-”
“You should go,” Taylor interrupted quietly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Taylor?”
“Seriously. Besides, if nothing else, the more people who are searching that hotel, the sooner you’re all going to realise that Tristan’s not there.”
Flack smiled at Sofia before grabbing Taylor’s arm and half dragged her away from the group and into another empty room. “What are you planning, Taylor Nicole Turner?”
“Don’t you middle name me, Donald,” Taylor snapped, before she let out a sigh. “Nothing. What’s the point? There are only so many times that I can tell these people that they are searching the wrong place. The only thing we can do is help the search in the hotel so that we can get them to finally realise that there might be some truth in what I say so that we can go and recover Tristan’s body.”
“Taylor,” said Flack gently, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “If you’d have given up with us in New York this easily, we would never be here now.”
“Don, the only reason you believe me is because you died. And I’m not prepared to be arrested for murder just to get one of them to believe me.”
Flack sighed. “The point is you didn’t give up. You got one person to believe in you and slowly more did.”
Taylor’s eyes lit up. “You’re right.”
Flack frowned. “I’m not sure I like that look, Tay. I think I preferred the ‘given up’ look.”
“Greg, the tire prints belong to a Dodge Ram – they’re hardly uncommon,” Nick muttered as the computer beeped with its findings. “A 2004 model,” Nick confirmed.
“Well, I can tell you that Castenelli owns a 2004 black Dodge Ram, which was being returned to him after being cleaned,” Catherine told them as she walked into the room, followed by Sofia and Flack, and dropped a folder on the table.
Taylor frowned and picked up the folder, flicking through it, still agitated from the earlier confrontation.
“Well, that’s enough for a warrant to search the hotel, surely?” Greg asked.
“I’ve already called the judge,” Sofia confirmed. “As soon as the warrant comes through, we’re going in.”
In the doorway, Geoff and Holly appeared. Geoff was shaking his head. Ignoring the conversation the others were now holding, Taylor frowned, concentrating on the ghosts. “He’s not in the hotel?”
Geoff nodded in agreement. Then, instead of fading away like the ghosts normally did, he turned and began walking hurriedly down the corridor. Ignoring the others, Taylor followed after him.
“Where are you going?” Catherine called after her.
Barely turning, Taylor just shrugged and continued following the ghost. He led her to the reception area and pointed to floor. The floor had a large crest which included a large map of Nevada. And Geoff was pointing to a specific point.
Taylor crouched down to examine the spot. “What’s there?” she asked as feet surrounded her.
“A tile?” Catherine asked her, clearly thinking Taylor was getting even crazier.
“No, I mean, the map. What’s there?”
“Desert,” Greg told her, cocking his head.
Taylor got back to her feet, “I think that’s where Tristan is. Or at the very least, a clue to where he is.”
Catherine gazed scathingly at her. “Taylor, there is nothing there, short of sand and dirt. And we can’t afford to waste man power to check there when there has been no evidence whatsoever to indicate otherwise.”
Taylor stood up in her frustration. “What the hell is the matter with you people? All I want to do is find this boy and make sure he’s safe,” Taylor cried. “And you guys are just doing is everything in your power to try and stop me.”
“Taylor,” Flack muttered in a low voice, placing his hand on her shoulder.
Shaking his hand off herself, Taylor did the last thing that Flack expected and nodded, without saying another word.
Even Catherine seemed a little surprised. “You’re not going to argue some more?”
Taylor shrugged in defeat. “What’s the point?” she asked, sighing dejectedly.
“Oh. Alright then. Well, Greg, we’re going to Castenelli Heights. Nick?”
“I’m going to finish processing the car,” he muttered. After sending Taylor a searching look, he left.
Sofia turned to Flack. “Out of professional courtesy, would you like to help search the hotel? Just you, though. We can’t allow Taylor onto the crime scene.”
“Thank you, but I-”
“You should go,” Taylor interrupted quietly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Taylor?”
“Seriously. Besides, if nothing else, the more people who are searching that hotel, the sooner you’re all going to realise that Tristan’s not there.”
Flack smiled at Sofia before grabbing Taylor’s arm and half dragged her away from the group and into another empty room. “What are you planning, Taylor Nicole Turner?”
“Don’t you middle name me, Donald,” Taylor snapped, before she let out a sigh. “Nothing. What’s the point? There are only so many times that I can tell these people that they are searching the wrong place. The only thing we can do is help the search in the hotel so that we can get them to finally realise that there might be some truth in what I say so that we can go and recover Tristan’s body.”
“Taylor,” said Flack gently, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “If you’d have given up with us in New York this easily, we would never be here now.”
“Don, the only reason you believe me is because you died. And I’m not prepared to be arrested for murder just to get one of them to believe me.”
Flack sighed. “The point is you didn’t give up. You got one person to believe in you and slowly more did.”
Taylor’s eyes lit up. “You’re right.”
Flack frowned. “I’m not sure I like that look, Tay. I think I preferred the ‘given up’ look.”
* * *
Without telling Flack what she was doing, Taylor hurried back into the crime lab. The Vegas CSIs had dispersed into various parts of the building, with the exception of Sophia and Catherine, who were waiting outside in a truck for Greg. This left one very concerned Flack following a very strong-minded Taylor, who was storming down the corridor. With determination masking her features, she ignored Flack who was trying to get her to tell him what she was doing.
Greg was in the locker room, alone, pulling a clean shirt over his head, when Taylor burst into the room. He gave a small yell and yanked the shirt down. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Do you believe me?” Taylor demanded as she stared directly at him.
“Believe you?” he repeated, still startled.
“That I can see ghosts.”
“Um, Taylor,” Flack interrupted.
“Don, you’re the one who put this idea in my head, so don’t tell me to stop.”
“I’m not sure this is what I had in mind,” he muttered.
Ignoring him, Taylor continued to focus her attention on Greg. “Do you believe that I can see ghosts?”
“Yeah,” he told her.
“And do you think I know where Tristan is?”
Greg paused, “I don’t know. I guess.”
“Greg. Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
Taylor grinned. “Right. Come with me.”
One down… time for the next one.
Greg was in the locker room, alone, pulling a clean shirt over his head, when Taylor burst into the room. He gave a small yell and yanked the shirt down. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Do you believe me?” Taylor demanded as she stared directly at him.
“Believe you?” he repeated, still startled.
“That I can see ghosts.”
“Um, Taylor,” Flack interrupted.
“Don, you’re the one who put this idea in my head, so don’t tell me to stop.”
“I’m not sure this is what I had in mind,” he muttered.
Ignoring him, Taylor continued to focus her attention on Greg. “Do you believe that I can see ghosts?”
“Yeah,” he told her.
“And do you think I know where Tristan is?”
Greg paused, “I don’t know. I guess.”
“Greg. Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
Taylor grinned. “Right. Come with me.”
One down… time for the next one.
* * *
Taylor shivered as Geoff and Holly appeared again. Normally, when a ghost came to see her, there was a drop in the temperature, but this time, the drop had been incredible – she could even see the ghost’s breath on the air. (Something which would later puzzle her beyond belief.) And that meant only one thing. If the ghost was telling her exactly where Tristan was, accompanied by very cold temperatures, then he was in serious trouble.
That called for drastic action. Her plan made a quick alteration after she spotted the person she was after walking down the corridor, rather than finding him in the garage where he was supposed to be. Before Nick knew what was happening, Taylor had her hands on his chest and was pushing him backwards into a supply closet, shutting the door behind them, locking Flack and Greg out in the hallway. She could hear Flack calling her name through the door.
“Now hang on one minute!” he yelped. “I am not that kind of guy, especially-”
“Okay, seriously,” Taylor hissed. “Not interested in that. Especially when my boyfriend is standing on the other side of the door. I figured this was the only place we could talk that doesn’t have a glass wall, because right now, I have no idea what to do. I’ve spent months getting the CSIs in New York to believe me, and if there wasn’t a time restraint on this, it wouldn’t be such a problem, but there is. I’m not here to help find a murderer. I’m here to try and prevent another murder. A kid. A little, defenceless kid, who has been brought into this because of a piece of land. And he’s in trouble. Not just the run of the mill kidnapping trouble. It’s the I’m lost and freezing to death, the only living person who knows anything has just had his car detailed and is allowing the police to look in the wrong place, kind of trouble. Actually, that’s not true, there are two people who know where he is, and I’m the other. But because I got this information-”
“Taylor.”
“-from a ghost, no one believes me, except for the one CSI who apparently has only just passed his proficiency exam, and has always been slightly eccentric, so can’t really do anything. Although, he has agreed to come with me. But you, you’ve been doing this a while, and unlike the others who just plain don’t like me because I’ve been unfortunate enough to have been visited by the ghost of a dead colleague – not my fault, by the way, although from the way every one was reacting, you would think-”
“Taylor.”
“-it was. So it’s got to be you. And I need you to listen to me and accept that maybe, just maybe, there are such things as ghosts. I know where Tristan is, but I need you to believe me so that we can go out there and get him, because if he’s still being held hostage, rather than being abandoned, I need someone who has a gun, because I don’t have one. And although Don does have one, I’m not about to send him in anywhere without backup. And you can arrest me if you want, but when a judge hears how I’ve can see ghosts, I’m going to be committed to a psychiatric hospital, but even then, when the doctors hear how much work I’ve done, I’ll be released. At the very worst, they’ll keep me in there for a while, and it’ll be nothing more than a welcome break, because I’m pretty certain the ghosts won’t come visit me in there-”
“TAYLOR!” Nick bellowed.
Taylor stopped and blinked. “Yeah?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
Taylor pursed her lips. “The only way you are going to get me to shut up is by either gagging me or agreeing to go out into the desert with me.”
“Alright.”
“Alright you’re going to gag me or alright you’ll go out in the desert?” Taylor frowned. “Because I’ll have you know that it’s going to take a lot more than a piece of cloth to-”
“Taylor, just shut up already and breathe! I’ll go out into the desert,” Nick cried in exasperation.
That called for drastic action. Her plan made a quick alteration after she spotted the person she was after walking down the corridor, rather than finding him in the garage where he was supposed to be. Before Nick knew what was happening, Taylor had her hands on his chest and was pushing him backwards into a supply closet, shutting the door behind them, locking Flack and Greg out in the hallway. She could hear Flack calling her name through the door.
“Now hang on one minute!” he yelped. “I am not that kind of guy, especially-”
“Okay, seriously,” Taylor hissed. “Not interested in that. Especially when my boyfriend is standing on the other side of the door. I figured this was the only place we could talk that doesn’t have a glass wall, because right now, I have no idea what to do. I’ve spent months getting the CSIs in New York to believe me, and if there wasn’t a time restraint on this, it wouldn’t be such a problem, but there is. I’m not here to help find a murderer. I’m here to try and prevent another murder. A kid. A little, defenceless kid, who has been brought into this because of a piece of land. And he’s in trouble. Not just the run of the mill kidnapping trouble. It’s the I’m lost and freezing to death, the only living person who knows anything has just had his car detailed and is allowing the police to look in the wrong place, kind of trouble. Actually, that’s not true, there are two people who know where he is, and I’m the other. But because I got this information-”
“Taylor.”
“-from a ghost, no one believes me, except for the one CSI who apparently has only just passed his proficiency exam, and has always been slightly eccentric, so can’t really do anything. Although, he has agreed to come with me. But you, you’ve been doing this a while, and unlike the others who just plain don’t like me because I’ve been unfortunate enough to have been visited by the ghost of a dead colleague – not my fault, by the way, although from the way every one was reacting, you would think-”
“Taylor.”
“-it was. So it’s got to be you. And I need you to listen to me and accept that maybe, just maybe, there are such things as ghosts. I know where Tristan is, but I need you to believe me so that we can go out there and get him, because if he’s still being held hostage, rather than being abandoned, I need someone who has a gun, because I don’t have one. And although Don does have one, I’m not about to send him in anywhere without backup. And you can arrest me if you want, but when a judge hears how I’ve can see ghosts, I’m going to be committed to a psychiatric hospital, but even then, when the doctors hear how much work I’ve done, I’ll be released. At the very worst, they’ll keep me in there for a while, and it’ll be nothing more than a welcome break, because I’m pretty certain the ghosts won’t come visit me in there-”
“TAYLOR!” Nick bellowed.
Taylor stopped and blinked. “Yeah?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
Taylor pursed her lips. “The only way you are going to get me to shut up is by either gagging me or agreeing to go out into the desert with me.”
“Alright.”
“Alright you’re going to gag me or alright you’ll go out in the desert?” Taylor frowned. “Because I’ll have you know that it’s going to take a lot more than a piece of cloth to-”
“Taylor, just shut up already and breathe! I’ll go out into the desert,” Nick cried in exasperation.
Originally posted: 19/03/2007